


It's Too Cliché (I won't say I'm in love)

by kxtsukiyuri



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Beekeeper Castiel, Bisexual Castiel, Dancing, Demiromantic Dean, Demisexual Dean, Demisexuality, Fluff, Human AU, Kissing, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Prostitute Dean (past), Strange Dream Sequence, idk if that bothers anyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 06:31:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3800377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxtsukiyuri/pseuds/kxtsukiyuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester doesn't do love. He just doesn't. It's weird, it's messy, and he would rather not deal with it.</p>
<p>That is, until he falls asleep in a park in the middle of winter and meets the most charmingly adorable beekeeper he's ever seen. He tries to keep his distance, but when you're living with someone in a small apartment with only one bedroom and an uncomfortable couch, what's a guy to do?</p>
<p>Dean says he doesn't do love, but what he ends up doing seems awfully close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In which Dean gets picked up.

Dean tripped over the threshold on his way out of the bar, calling out a slurred insult at the bartender.

“Yer ma was a hamshter, and yer dad smelled like ellerberries!” From inside, the bartender yelled,

“You’re the one who smells like elderberries, Winchester! Get on home, or I'll call the cops and get you charged with public indecency!” Dean pouted and walked off, mumbling under his breath,

“You’re a public indecenshy.” He made his way down the road, heading towards the park. That was where he left his car… or was it on Park Avenue? Park Street? Shit, he couldn’t remember. Oh, well. The park was as good a place as any to sleep. He walked -- well, staggered -- across the road and was brought back to reality with the sound of screeching brakes and headlights shining brightly in his eyes. He grunted and flailed about wildly, sitting down hard on the pavement. The driver’s side door on the car opened and a person stepped out. Dean couldn’t tell if they were a boy or a girl because of all the layers of clothes they were wearing.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing out?” The lump asked. Dean squinted against the glare of the lights, saying,

“I was… I was goin’ to my car.” The lump of clothes shifted uncomfortably, asking,

“You, uh. You sure you should be driving in your, uh,” The lump gestured to Dean sitting on the ground. “Condition?” Dean shook his head, resisting the sudden urge to giggle and loudly proclaim that he was talking to the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.

“M’not driving. Just gotta get back to my car.” Dean said, not sure why the lump didn’t understand. The lump of clothes shifted again and said uncomfortably,

“Uh… okie-dokie. I guess I’ll go now.” Dean waved his hand and said,

“Yeah, you… you do that. Say, what time is it?” The lump looked in at the car’s clock and responded,

“Um… it’s almost 5 a.m. Why?” Dean stared contemplatively at a pebble on the ground.

“Thought it was 2.” The lump shrugged and got back in the car. Dean crawled to the sidewalk as the car sped away. He watched it go before crossing the main road to get to the park. He wandered around in the playground, half looking for his car, half wanting to sit down on the swings. The swings won out, so he sat down and swung back and forth for a while before stopping, twisting up the chains above his head and spinning around.

It started out slowly at first, but he gained momentum and ended up falling out of the seat. He got up and lurched towards the rubbish can, puking what felt like his entire digestive system into it and wiping at his mouth with his sleeve. He washed his mouth out at the fountain, relishing the cool water on his tongue. He blinked, suddenly feeling sleepy. He looked around for something to lie down on. He spied the merry-go-round and walked over, curling himself between the bars and snuggling his head into his arms, feeling somewhat content.

*****

When Dean woke up, he was warm, his head hurt like a motherfucker and he was definitely not on the merry-go-round. He sat up, but groaned and lay back again. He looked around the room. He was laying on a futon couch, and the windows had blankets on them to block out the light. To his right was open space and a hallway, to his left was the front door and a side table with a note, a glass of water and two painkillers on it. He picked up the note first, because he remembered reading a book once where the main character had taken this guy to her friend’s house to have sex but he had left in the morning, so he left a note, but she spilled water on the note and he didn’t want to do that, so he put the note safely to the side and knocked back the pills, swallowing them with just enough water. Only after he took a few deep breaths did he feel steady enough to read the note.

_Hello! I found you at the park sleeping on the merry-go-round and couldn’t help but notice that it was way too cold for that. I couldn’t find your car, but when I get back from work, we can probably go look for it together. I thought you would have a pretty bad hangover, so I left the Advil for you. You can eat anything in the pantry and anything in the fridge that isn’t in a Tupperware container. Have a nice day!_

_Castiel Novak (a.k.a. the guy who almost ran you over this morning:)_

Dean smiled at the note. People really could be nice when they wanted to sometimes. He got up from the futon, gripping the back for support for a moment before slowly walking into the kitchen. He opened up the fridge, immediately noticing the brown paper bag that smelled like french fries. He grinned when he opened it, his suspicions confirmed, and set it down on the counter, grabbing a bag of cheese and some eggs before accidentally slamming the door shut on his fingers. He got in the zone for cooking, plopping a giant glob of butter into the pan and swirling it around. This was his favourite breakfast, and only the base changed from meal to meal.

He blinked, shaking himself out of a sudden sleepy torpor. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up burning the butter. He dumped the fries in the pan and got out a bowl. The fries were done heating in a few minutes, so he scooped them into the bowl, topped them with cheese and cracked his eggs into the pan. They sizzled and popped, and they were finished cooking quickly. He flipped them over briefly to cook the tops, then he poured everything into his bowl, making sure to get as much of the butter as possible.

After he found the eating utensils, he sat down at the kitchen table. He took what looked like an old issue of TIME out of a magazine rack, smiling when he saw the picture of Laverne Cox on the cover. He had liked this issue a lot. His little brother, Sam, was trans, and part of the reason he’d dropped out of high school was so he could get money for all of the surgeries Sam had needed. Their parents were supportive and helpful, but they only had so much money. Female to male surgery was so much more expensive than male to female, but everything had worked perfectly, which Sam had been ecstatic about. Of course, Dean had gotten the shitty end of the stick, but he was okay with that. As long as Sam was happy, he was happy. He actually hadn’t seen him in years, come to think of it. Ah, well. He’d look him up later.

He became absorbed in the article that he’d read so many times before, and he ate almost absent-mindedly. When he heard the door slam, he sat up straight and closed the magazine, but he relaxed when he saw that it was only the lump of clothes he had seen earlier that morning. It shuffled over to a hamper by the T.V. and started taking off all the layers. As Dean watched, he counted:

  1. Large, bulky snow boots.
  2. A poncho.
  3. A coat.
  4. A sweatshirt.
  5. A ski mask.
  6. Two hats.
  7. A scarf.
  8. Snow pants.
  9. And finally, sweatpants.



All these were stripped away to reveal a very disheveled man wearing black skinny jeans, a dark blue t-shirt with song lyrics on it and hot pink socks with cartoon bees all over them. He then stripped off his t-shirt, and Dean thought that the man either didn’t notice him or didn’t care. It turned out to be the latter, as he turned to Dean, smiled and waved, then put his shirt in the hamper. Dean nearly stabbed himself in the mouth with his fork when the man took off his jeans and walked away. Dean tried to remember how to breathe, but ended up sucking food into his windpipe.

He ran over to the sink, hacking up a lung to get the food out. After a while, he returned to the table and saw the man walking in wearing what looked like linen pajamas, carrying a small bundle of clothes. He smiled and set it down on the table, extending his hand to Dean.

“Hi. I don’t think we were officially introduced. I’m Castiel, but you can call me Cas, if you like. I prefer it.” Dean hesitated, then shook Castiel’s hand.

“Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you.” Castiel smiled again. He tended to smile a lot, Dean noticed. Castiel gestured to the clothes on the table. It looked like it was made of the same material of his outfit.

“You puked on yourself on the ride here this morning. I put your clothes in the wash, so you can use these in the meantime.” Dean took them, putting them on right there in the kitchen. They were loose and comfortable, and he was about to jokingly ask if he could keep them when Castiel said,

“You can have them if you like. I have a few sets. Just don’t wear them in the winter if you have crappy heating.” Dean smiled, thanking Castiel with his expression. He sat back down as Castiel got up and poured himself a bowl of Froot Loops. They ate in companionable silence, as if they’d done this hundreds of times before. After a while, Dean decided to break the ice a bit more.

“So, what do you do for a living, Cas?” Castiel smiled.

“Well, after I graduated high school, I went to college and graduated there with a degree in Visual Arts, specifically painting and sculpture. I’ve got a whole little studio room here. After that, I was looking for a job and found a good one at Cain & Abel’s Honey Farm, though it’s really only Cain’s now. Abel passed on a while back. What about you?” Dean thought for a minute, figuring out what he could say.

“Odd jobs, mostly, when I can get them. I know a little about a lot of things, just enough to make me good at everything.” He smiled at Castiel, and the smile he got in return made him a bit less anxious.

“What kind of jobs?” Dean swallowed, his smile wavering.

“Oh, you know. Construction, housekeeping, bussing tables. Some other… stuff.” Dean looked back down at his food. It was unappetising now. Castiel tilted his head, looking at Dean curiously.

“You mean…” He trailed off, gesturing towards Dean’s lap awkwardly. Dean swallowed again, not looking up.

“Well, you’re an intuitive person, aren’t you.” Dean said, completely deadpan. Castiel smiled sadly, replying,

“Yeah. Well, it’s all right. Completely judgement free zone here.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”


	2. In which Dean and Cas have a private dance party.

One of the perks of staying at a place where all of the utility bills have been paid is being able to take a hot shower.

Dean had waited patiently until Castiel was finished with his before taking one, smiling as Castiel stepped out of the bathroom looking warm and soft and disheveled.

_He looks fucked,_ Dean thought to himself before scurrying off to the bathroom to see what the water pressure was like. It was absolutely marvellous, and he made sure to tell that to Castiel later.

Dean _loved_ taking long showers. He never knew when he was going to get another, so he always took advantage of one when he had it. Castiel’s towels were some of the fluffiest he had ever touched, and his soaps all smelled like fruit or flowers. The tub was huge. Dean could lay down in the middle of it and have at least half a foot of space on all sides of his body. Dean picked up the shampoo bottle that advertised itself as being piña colada scented. It did indeed smell like piña colada, and Dean found himself singing as he washed his hair.

_If you like Piña Coladas, and gettin’ caught in the rain_

_If you're not into yoga, if you have half a brain_

_If you like making love at midnight, in the dunes of the cape_

_I'm the love that you've looked for. Write to me, and escape…_

Dean jumped when he heard a small burst of applause. Keeping the shower curtain in front of his body, he peeked out into the steamy bathroom. Castiel was looking at him, grinning from ear to ear. Dean pulled the curtain shut, waited a moment, then looked out again. Castiel was still standing there, except now he was brushing his teeth, sneaking little glances at Dean in the mirror. Dean closed the curtain again, rinsing the suds out of his hair.

“You know, this is kind of like that scene from _Elf_ where Buddy is hanging out in the shower room and sings that duet with Jovie.” Castiel smiled around his toothbrush.

“Well, it would have worked better if you had been singing a duet song, but I’m perfectly happy with listening to you sing by yourself. You have a nice singing voice.” Dean blushed a little as he worked conditioner through his hair.

“Thanks. Nobody’s ever complimented me on that before.”

“Whyever not? You should sing all the time with a set of pipes like those.”

“Eh, never really liked singing for other people.” There was a moment of silence before Castiel asked,

“Am I an exception?” Dean looked out again. Castiel had sat down on an ottoman in the corner of the room. Dean smiled at him.

“Yeah, I suppose.” He said. Castiel grinned back, dancing a bit in his chair. Dean closed the curtain and started to wash his body.

“You know, you are one of the most genuinely happy people I’ve ever met.” He heard Castiel laugh.

“Well, thank you. Too many people waste energy being angry about things that don’t matter. Oh, by the way, it snowed last night.”

“Did it?” Dean liked snow, but he was very grateful that Castiel had found him when he did.

“You’re lucky I found you.” Castiel said, voicing Dean’s thought. “If I hadn’t, you’d probably be something resembling a corpsicle right now.” Dean smiled at the statement, replying,

“Well, thanks. Do you do this often? Pick up random bums sleeping in playgrounds?” Castiel laughed.

“No, not often. I felt like I had to apologize for almost running you over.”

“Well, it worked.” After a long period of silence, Dean looked out to see that Castiel had left the room. Dean quickly finished his shower and came out of the bathroom wearing his linen pajamas. He could hear soft music coming from the living room. He walked in to find Castiel sitting on the floor with piles of records strewn around him.

The music coming from the small record player was old-timey, black-and-white movie music. Castiel looked up at Dean and smiled.

"I'm in the process of reorganizing my record collection. I want to change it up a little." Dean sat down next to the record player, being careful not to step on anything.

"Instead of having it be categorized by genre and year, I'm putting them in alphabetical order." Dean smiled and said,

"How exciting." Castiel flashed him an almost manic grin.

"I know, right?" It struck Dean then that Castiel found this genuinely entertaining and he felt his chest swell. Castiel cocked his head and listened to the music. He was up in a flash, reaching down for Dean.

"My favorite song is coming up. May I have this dance, Mr. Winchester?" Dean smiled.

"But of course, Mr. Novak." Dean took hold of Castiel's hand and was immediately pulled up and into a dancing pose with Castiel's hand on his waist. Dean thought it fit perfectly there. The music slowed to silence and the next song started playing as they began to sway and swirl around the room. Castiel sang along, not hiding the excitement and happiness in his voice.

_Heaven, I'm in Heaven_

_And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak_

_And I seem to find the happiness I seek_

_When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek..._

Dean smiled as they spun and Castiel continued to sing until the instrumental bit.

"Have you ever seen _Top Hat_?" Castiel asked.

"No. An... acquaintance of mine used to listen to this song, though. It was the Sinatra version. He would sing it a lot." Dean answered. Castiel pulled a face, saying,

"The Sinatra version is too fast for me. I don't really like it." Dean nodded in agreement.

"I like this version much better." Castiel smiled and pulled away as the song ended.

"Would you like to go through the rest of my collection with me?" Dean smiled back.

"Sure thing." They went through the whole collection, not really sorting anything. They jumped around the records, listening to James Brown and Adele and Tchaikovsky. By around 2 in the morning, they were listening to Castiel's vinyl version of the _Guardians of the Galaxy_ soundtrack. With every soundtrack record, Castiel would ask Dean if he had seen the movie for it. It was established early on that Dean didn't watch movies very often, so it was somewhat of a surprise for Castiel when Dean said he had seen this one. Castiel continued to sing along with every song he could, no exceptions.

_I'm not in love, so don't forget it_

_It's just a silly phase I'm going through_

_And just because I call you up_

_Don't get me wrong, don't think you've got it made_

_I'm not in love, oh no..._

As Dean listened to Castiel's raspy voice singing in his ear, he noticed that his face felt wet. He touched his cheek and realized that he must have been crying. He sniffed quietly, but Castiel heard him. He pulled away, looking at Dean worriedly.

"Are you okay? Am I making you uncomfortable?" Dean smiled and shook his head, still feeling the tears standing in his eyes.

"I -- I don't know why I'm crying. I guess I -- Well, I haven't -- No one's  been affectionate with me in so _long_ , I just don't know what to do with myself." Dean stood there with his arms hanging limply at his sides, his eyes burning and his chin quivering. Castiel looked at him sympathetically. Wordlessly, he took Dean's hand and led him to the couch, sitting him down before grabbing the box of Kleenex by the T.V. and handing it to Dean.

"You can cry. It's okay." Castiel said comfortingly. Dean looked at him, swallowing somewhat nervously.

"R-really? You won't mind?" Castiel smiled and shook his head.

"No. You seem like you haven't had a good cry in a while." Dean nodded, afraid to speak in case he started bawling. Castiel wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulders.

"It's okay, really. You'll feel better after you've finished crying, I promise." Dean took a shuddering breath and buried his face in his hands, shivering with quiet sobs. They grew slightly louder after a while, so Castiel hesitantly moved Dean's face to his shoulder. Dean clutched Castiel’s shirt tightly, pushing his face into Castiel's chest. After a while, his cries tapered off into hiccuping breaths until he was able to breathe deeper.

He pulled away from Castiel and noticed that there was a wet spot where his face had been on Castiel's shirt. He barked a short, out of place laugh and grabbed a wad of tissues to try and clean it.

"It's okay, Dean. I can handle it." Castiel said as he gently moved Dean's hand away. Dean went back to try and wipe at it again, babbling apologies.

"No, I -- y-you're all wet, I have to try and -- and clean it off or I'll feel badly -- I'm really, super sorry --"

"Dean." He stopped and looked with almost wonder at Castiel's hand, firmly holding his wrist. He looked up at Castiel, expecting him to be angry, another apology waiting on his tongue. The look Castiel was giving him was kind and nurturing and gave him a warm, cozy feeling.

"You need to go wash your face and go to sleep, Dean. I'll clean up." Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Castiel shushed him, standing up and pulling Dean up with him.

"Go wash your face, then you go lie down in my bed. I'll be done out here in a jiffy." Dean swallowed and walked into the bathroom. He leaned over the sink and splashed his face with cold water. He rubbed his face vigorously with the towel, hoping to get some feeling back into it.

He walked out of the bathroom, pausing in the hallway to look at Castiel, who was sorting the piles of records. Without looking at Dean, he pointed to the bedroom. Dean walked off glumly, wishing that Castiel would let him help.

He walked into the bedroom and was astounded by the size of the bed. Of course, he had seen a bed this big before, but he still didn’t understand why one person would need a bed that nearly took up the whole room. He lay down on the bed, curling up under the duvet. He smiled as the smell of Tide wafted around his head. It was warm in the bed, and he fell asleep in a few minutes, still smiling idiotically about the detergent smell.

In the living room, Castiel sat back on his heels and resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to be able to get the records in order and get a decent amount of sleep. He rubbed his eyes as he walked into the bedroom, falling onto the bed with a soft _flump_. He turned off the bedside lamp and rolled over, looking across the bed at Dean.

Dean’s hand was resting in the space between the two of them, curled into a loose fist. _Like a baby's,_ Castiel thought absently. Castiel put his hand next to Dean's, making it into a fist so he wouldn't touch him.

_I want to,_ he thought. _But I can't._

_ I can't. _


	3. In which Dean recovers his sense of touch.

The next day, Castiel woke up to an empty bed with light streaming through the blinds. He could smell delicious scents wafting into the room from the kitchen, and he got up from the bed, walking out while still half asleep.

When he got to the kitchen, he saw Dean standing there in his boxers in front of the stove, pushing something around in a pan with a spatula. When Dean caught sight of him, he grinned.

“Hey, sleepy-head. You must have been tired.” Castiel knit his eyebrows. 

"What time is it?” He asked in a sleep heavy voice. Dean smirked and answered,

“It’s around one in the afternoon.” Castiel’s eyes widened.

“Oh shit, I’m --” Dean laughed.

“Don’t worry, I called Cain for you, told him you got to bed late last night. He gave you the day off.” Castiel knit his eyebrows again.

“Why?” He asked. Dean blushed slightly.

“Well, uh. When I was talking to him, I mentioned that I was a new friend who was staying with you for a few days. He said he gave you the day off so we could... get to know each other better.” Castiel thought for a moment, then rubbed his face, groaning.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, he’s been asking me if I’ve got a partner for a few months now, ever since I broke up with the last one.” Dean smiled, still blushing slightly.

“It’s fine. I mean, if there’s anyone I’d want to be in a relationship with, you’d rank at least number three.” Castiel grinned and asked,

“Who would be one and two?” Dean pondered this as he flipped eggs.

“Well, Dr. Shepherd from Grey’s Anatomy, for one.” Dean answered. Castiel smiled. “

McDreamy?” Dean nodded.

“And then probably Han Solo for number two.”

“Han Solo is pretty hot.” Castiel said. Dean nodded again as he served the eggs he was making onto a plate and set it in front of Castiel.

"You gonna eat?" Castiel asked as he shoveled a bite of food into his mouth. Dean grabbed a sleeve of crackers from the cabinet.

"I already ate a little. Got up at around ten. Watched a movie." Castiel grinned.

"Oh yeah? What'd you watch?" Dean's cheeks colored slightly.

"I watched Finding Nemo." Castiel nodded, taking another bite of his food.

"Good choice. So, you wanna try and find your car today?"

"Sure. I mean, I wanna make sure I get to it before it gets impounded.” Dean smiled crookedly, popping a cracker into his mouth.

_Damn,_ Castiel thought to himself. _I think I might be in love._

*****

After Castiel had finished eating and gotten dressed, the two of them drove around town in Castiel’s black and yellow striped VW Bug. They found the car not far from where Dean had fallen asleep at the playground, which Dean ranted about to himself for about 5 minutes, much to Castiel’s amusement. After Dean did a short check up on his car, Castiel had Dean follow him to a small corner café.

After they parked, they went inside, sitting down at a table by a window. Castiel ordered two black coffees and a plate of assorted pastries, which Dean immediately dug into hungrily. Castiel watched in amusement as Dean nearly shoved an entire éclair into his mouth before catching himself and putting it down.

"I thought you said you ate already." Castiel said, smiling as he took a croissant. Dean blushed as he took a sip of coffee.

"Desserts are different from regular food."

"Uh huh." Dean blushed a little more and took a couple bites of the éclair. After a while, Dean blurted out,

"I've never seen E.T.!" Castiel frowned, looking at Dean curiously as he ate a maple bar. 

"What?" He asked. Dean blinked, as if he was startled.

"Uh. I noticed you had it on your DVD shelf, and uh, I figured we could watch it. Sometime." Dean blushed, taking a long swig of coffee. Castiel smiled, setting down his maple bar.

"Well, that sounds like it would definitely be fun. When would you like to?" Dean shrugged.

"Anytime you'd like to, I guess." Castiel thought for a moment.

"How about when we get home?"

"That would be cool."

They didn't watch the movie when they got home. Instead, they got distracted by the records again and ended up having another impromptu dance party. Castiel made sure that they went to bed at a much earlier time, since he had work in the morning. Dean pouted, but fell asleep quickly all the same.

Castiel woke up again the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking and smiled. He walked out to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair.

"Do you even sleep?" He asked, making Dean jump slightly.

"Oh, hey. Good morning." Castiel grinned before turning to go to the bathroom and get ready. Dean watched him go with a queer expression on his face. He continued to cook, shaking himself out of his reverie. He didn’t notice when Castiel walked back into the kitchen, stepping behind him and ruffling his hair. He flinched, but only slightly.

“Your hair smells like pineapples.” Castiel said as he sat down at the table, scrolling through something on his phone. He tapped the screen a few times before setting the phone down as soft music wafted through the kitchen.

_I had a thought, dear, however scary_

_About that night, the bugs and the dirt_

_Why were you digging? What did you bury?_

_Before those hands pulled me from the earth…_

“And what would this music be?” Dean asked, swaying slowly to the beat. Castiel grinned.

“It’s a song called ‘ _Like Real People Do_ ’. It’s by this guy, Hozier. He makes awesome music.” Dean nodded as he pulled out two plates from the cupboard.

“I believe that.” Dean poured the contents of the pan onto the plates, dividing it evenly. He set the plates down at the table, digging into his food immediately. Castiel stared at the plate.

“What exactly are you feeding me?” Dean shrugged, chewing a huge mouthful of food.

“I honestly have no fucking clue,” He said after he swallowed.

“I just grabbed a bunch of random food from your fridge and warmed it up. It’s good, try it.” Castiel squinted at Dean, questioning his taste, but took a bite anyway. When Dean looked up, five minutes later, Castiel was scraping the plate. The fork was almost to his mouth when he saw Dean looking at him, barely holding back the laughter that threatened to come out.

Castiel blushed and took his plate to the sink as Dean made odd squeaking noises behind him before finally leaning back in his chair and letting out a laugh that continued far longer than it had any business doing. Castiel turned around, his face crimson, and said,

“That is a fake laugh!” Dean’s laughter practically doubled in intensity.

"It’s real!” Dean gasped. Castiel struggled to keep from smiling.

“Totally fake.” Dean couldn’t even respond, and just sat there shivering with laughter until he was finally able to speak again.

“Oh, _Christ_ , that was funnier than it should have been.” Castiel turned back around to wash his plate, still blushing.

"Hey, you're not mad, are you?" Dean said with a concerned tone after a while. Castiel sat back down at the table after he finished washing his plate and had put it on the drying rack. He smiled at Dean and said,

"No, I'm not mad." Dean was visibly relieved.

"Oh, good." Castiel patted Dean's shoulder and stood up, picking up his phone.

"I should get going. I'll see you later." He grinned. "Don't decide to skip town without telling me first, alright?" Dean smiled, inwardly wishing that Castiel would touch him again.

"I promise I won't." Castiel smiled before walking to the door and putting all of his outerwear on. Dean walked over to help him, and Castiel was soon out the door with a wave. Dean waved back, then closed and locked the door. Dean stood there for a moment, looking at himself in the mirror by the door. He looked down at his stomach, which had started feeling quivery when Castiel had patted his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" He asked it aloud. After he didn't get an answer, he shook himself a little and decided to clean to make the quivery feeling go away. _God_ , how he wished Castiel would touch him again.


	4. In which Dean and Cas almost, but not quite, consummate their relationship.

Dean relearned how to clean when Castiel was at work.  He would clean everything. Castiel’s kitchen, his bedroom, his bathroom. He even sorted all the records by himself one day. Castiel came back home that night and complained because he couldn’t find his Top Hat record. Dean simply smiled as he made dinner, listening to Castiel mope and shuffle the records back around again. For all of his tidiness and compulsion for specific orders, if you actually _looked_ at Castiel's house, it was rather messy. Clothes were strewn everywhere, you could find movies in the linen closet, library books in the kitchen cabinets, and Dean once found a half empty box of Oreos under the bed.

Castiel would shrug when presented with these facts, and Dean would roll his eyes and grumble about ants.

In the few weeks that Dean was with Castiel, many life stories were told and swapped, from when Sam told Dean that he was trans, to the time Castiel’s older brothers tried to climb a tree together and all three ended up breaking an arm. Dean also noticed that a good majority of his inhibitions about touch and intimacy seemed to fade away. He found himself hugging Castiel from behind as he paid bills, and he didn't flinch any more when Castiel ruffled his hair unexpectedly. Dean even found himself cuddling up to Castiel during the night.

Castiel noticed all these things too, especially the cuddling. He wasn’t even sure if Dean was aware of it. He had just woken up once in the middle of the night to find that his face was pressed into something warm and he couldn’t move his arms. Being rather claustrophobic, he panicked a little and squirmed around until he heard a soft sigh above his head. He froze immediately, everything clicking into place. He was not shoved into a tight space by some sadistic serial killer, as previously thought. Nope, he was just getting sleepily cuddled like he was a damn teddy bear.

Not that he was complaining, but _God_ , that had been slightly terrifying.

He mentioned it casually to Dean over breakfast that morning and Dean blushed so red that Castiel thought he might actually turn into a tomato. Castiel simply smiled, and reassured Dean that it was all right, no harm done. Dean looked very visibly relieved, and he stopped trying to apologize profusely, which they both thought was a great achievement for him.

Also in these few weeks, they never watched _E.T.,_ not even once. However, they did watch _Ghost,_ and that particular movie gave Dean many stupid ideas, one of which was to drink a bit too much wine and surprise Castiel in his studio while he was using the pottery wheel.

Before he walked in, he peeked through the door to see if Castiel would notice him. He didn’t look up when Dean walked in, as he was much too focused on the vase he seemed to be making. Dean picked up Castiel’s phone from the table where he’d left it, opened up YouTube and searched for a song. Satisfied with the results, he pressed play and set the phone down, getting a stool and sitting behind Castiel, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s waist and humming along to the music.

_Oh, my love, my darling,_

_I’ve hungered for your touch_

_A long lonely time_

_And time goes by so slowly…_

Castiel glanced back at Dean before returning his attention to the vase.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” He asked, running his hands up the sides of the vase. Dean shrugged, nuzzling his chin into the crook of Castiel’s neck.

“Well… Personally, I think the wine’s to blame.” Dean answered. Castiel smiled, widening the top of the vase.

“Just the wine?” He asked teasingly. Without really meaning to, Dean pressed his lips against a spot behind Castiel’s ear, making him shiver slightly. Dean smirked.

“...Maybe not just the wine.” He replied after a moment of thought. He kissed his way down Castiel’s neck to the collar of his shirt, moving his hands to cover Castiel’s on the vase. They moved their hands up and down, smoothing out the surface of the vase.

Castiel rested his head back on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean took the chance to hesitantly suck a mark onto the side of Castiel’s throat, making him moan softly. Dean nipped the skin above his pulse point, and Castiel moaned a bit louder.

“Dean… Please…” He said softly, his hands going limp and slowly smushing the vase down onto the wheel. Dean smiled slightly, kissing along Castiel’s neck again.

“Please what, Cas?” Castiel stopped the wheel, turning around in his seat. He grabbed Dean’s shirt, pulling him in close and kissing him roughly. Dean smiled into the kiss, tangling his fingers in Castiel’s hair. After a long while, they broke apart, pressing their foreheads together and breathing heavily.

“Do you…” Castiel trailed off, licking his lips. “Do you want to keep going?”

“Oh, _God_ , yes.” Dean groaned, pulling Castiel in for another kiss. It was slow and searing, conveying everything that had built up between them in last few weeks in just a few moments. Castiel pulled away again and Dean whimpered softly. Castiel groaned at the noise, resisting the urge to absolutely devour his mouth.

“Should we move this elsewhere?” He asked hesitantly. He was not at all prepared for Dean’s response.

“ _Please._ ” He answered, whining softly. Castiel stood up hurriedly, taking Dean’s hand and dragging him to the bedroom. He pushed Dean down on the bed, crawling over him and kissing him with surprising tenderness. Dean whined again, high and keening, grabbing at any part of Castiel he could reach.

“Cas, _please._ Need you, need you so bad.” Castiel just about growled, twining his fingers with Dean’s and pinning his hands down on the bed. Dean bucked his hips up on instinct, whimpering softly. Castiel sat up, straddling Dean’s hips, and started to strip his clothes off. Dean pushed him to the side, rushing to take his own clothes off.

When they had gotten rid of most of their clothing, they went right back to kissing. It was sloppy and wet and rough, filled with grabbing hands, whispered nonsense and hushed moans. When Castiel finally ground his hips down onto Dean’s, circling his hips slowly, all the air in Dean’s lungs left in a big _whoosh,_ and he whimpered, clutching Castiel’s hair tightly.

Castiel moaned loudly, muffling the sound in Dean’s neck as he continued rolling his hips forward.

“Do you -- ngh, _fuck_ \-- like this, Dean?” He asked, just about breathless with pleasure. Dean nodded, moving his hands to hold Castiel’s hips tightly.

“Yes, yes, oh God, _yes_ \--” Dean’s sentence was cut off as Castiel ground down onto him harder, and he moaned loudly, throwing his head back.

“P-please, Cas, need you, need you, _please_ \--” Dean was cut off again as Castiel sealed his mouth over Dean’s, pulling his underwear down without him noticing. He lightly rubbed a finger over Dean’s hole, and Dean jerked his hips up so hard that he nearly threw Castiel completely off of him.

Castiel snorted then, biting his lip. Dean looked at him quizzically. Castiel sat back on the bed and started laughing uncontrollably. Dean looked up at him for a moment before starting to laugh too. After they had both calmed down, they started to kiss again, soft and slow and sweet. The desperation from earlier had seeped away while they were laughing, and they were in no rush to stop kissing. Castiel ground his hips down again, gently, and Dean moaned softly, kissing Castiel's neck.

“I love you.” Castiel said quietly against Dean’s hair. Dean froze immediately, his body stiffening slightly. He had no idea why, but he could feel a few tears running down his cheeks, and he hurriedly wiped them away. Castiel pulled back, rolling off of Dean and lying on his side next to him.

“Is there something wrong?” He asked, concerned. “Did I hurt you? Is this going too fast?” Dean shook his head, answering,

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Castiel tilted his head.

“I did something, though. What did I do?” He questioned. Dean swallowed, counting the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.

“You said you loved me.” He stated simply, his voice so soft that Castiel almost didn’t hear him.

“No one’s said they loved me in… God, it’s been years now.” Castiel shifted, draping his arm across Dean’s waist, asking him,

“When was the last time?” Dean thought on his answer as he traced the cracks in the ceiling plaster with his gaze.

“It was… 6 years ago, I think? It was before Sam had started transitioning. It was early morning, and I was leaving the house to try and get money for the surgeries he needed. I had left a note on the table about where I was going and what I was doing.

“I had loaded everything into the car and I was about to leave when Sammy popped up out of nowhere behind me and asked what I was doing." Dean took a breath before continuing.

“I told him the truth, right off the bat. He deserved to know. I was running off for him, after all.” Dean closed his eyes, remembering.

“He almost started crying right then and there. He walked over and hugged me really tightly. Like, almost-cut-off-the-circulation-to-my-lower-body tightly. He -- He told me he was scared. Scared that I might get hurt by myself, and scared that someone could hurt him if I was gone.” Dean swallowed and rolled over to face Castiel, feeling tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. Castiel squeezed his middle comfortingly and ran a hand through his hair.

“I felt really guilty for scaring him. I told him that I was gonna be careful, and that no one was gonna hurt him. When I finally got in the car, he told me to be careful again and he said 'I love you.'” Dean pressed his face into Castiel’s chest, shaking with quiet sobs.

“I n-never said it back. I j-just kinda patted his shoulder and d-drove off.” Castiel rested his cheek on Dean’s head, shushing him and rubbing his back. Dean whispered again,

“I never said it back.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the *ahem* sex scene from the movie Ghost, which, if you watch it before you read this chapter, will make Cas and Dean's transition from pottery to sex make more sense: youtube.com/watch?v=FvJknWj49aY


	5. In which Dean dreams and makes difficult decisions.

The second Dean opened his eyes, he knew instantly that he was dreaming. He had always been able to have these lucid dreams since he was a kid, and they were almost always unpleasant, to say the least. He had a feeling this would be different.

When he looked around the dream-room (which he knew it was), he noted that he was sitting up, Castiel was gone, and the clock on the nightstand read 10 p.m. His knowledge that this was a dream was further confirmed by the clock, as sunlight was streaming through the windows. He got out of the bed and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen.

A dream-Castiel was standing in front of the stove. None of the burners were on, and there was no smell, but there was a sizzling pan of bacon and eggs on the stove. Dream-Castiel looked up as Dean entered the room.

“Finally decided to join us?” He asked, sitting at the table. Dean frowned.

“Us?” He questioned, confused. Dream-Castiel smiled at Dean, gesturing behind him, where another Dream-Castiel had appeared.

“Yes, us.” Dream-Castiel 1 responded. Dream-Castiel 2 smiled at Dean, but his eyes were blank. Dean sat down at the table, glancing at the stove.

“Aren’t you gonna watch that?” He asked. Dream-Castiel 1 shook his head, answering,

"No. I don't have to. You already know it's only a fabrication of your mind. Unless you want there to be a fire, there won't be one." Dream-Castiel 2 was still standing in the doorway, which Dean thought was just a little creepy.

"Isn't he gonna sit down or something?" He questioned, shifting uncomfortably.

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you?" Dream-Castiel 1 asked, not answering Dean's question.

"Why the hell am I dreaming about this?" Dean asked, becoming upset. "It doesn't make sense."

"Dreams rarely make sense, Dean. You should know this by now." Dream-Castiel 1 responded.

"Yeah, but this is just weird for no reason." Dean said, exasperated.

"You know the reason." Dream-Castiel 1 said, blinking slowly.

"No, I don't, so help me out here a little, asshole." Dean huffed angrily.

"You know, technically, you're only getting mad at yourself here." Dream-Castiel 1 said calmly.

"I don't care! All I know is that there's one more Cas than there needs to be and I'm confused as all hell!" Dean almost yelled. Dream-Castiel 1 closed his eyes and sighed.

"You're dreaming us because --" Dream-Castiel 1 started.

"You're scared and confused." Dream-Castiel 2 finished, appearing suddenly next to Dream-Castiel 1.

"You don't know what path you want." Dream-Castiel 1 said.

"Should you take this --" Dream-Castiel 2 said, pointing at the front door to the house.

"Or this?" Dream-Castiel 1 asked, pointing at the bedroom door. They spoke with one voice, but still sounded distinct from each other. Suddenly, something from an Ancient Literature lesson Dean had taken once when he was 14 floated through his head, and the reason for two Castiels clicked.

"You're Janus." Dean realized, and both Dream-Castiels smiled.

"You caught on. Well done." They said at the same time. Dean blinked, and they had melded into one body, with their heads turned to the side and joined in the back.

"The first Cas can see the past, and the second one can see the future. That's how you work, right?" Dean asked. Janus nodded, which looked rather strange. His head tilted from side to side quickly, and Dean was almost scared for a moment.

"So, what do you want?" The first head asked. "To forget the past --"

"Or create a new future?" The second head finished. Dean's shoulders sagged.

"I... I don't know. I just want to wake up for real and forget this dream." Janus smiled again.

"Oh, silly boy. You have to pick one." The first head said, a little condescendingly.

And you'll never forget this dream." The second head said. "It will either be a mocking memory of regret --"

"Or a joyful memory of triumph, that one last little push towards Elysium -- or Heaven, whichever you prefer." The first head finished. Dean sighed, rubbing his temples

"But which door do I pick?" He asked, confused and tired.

"That's for you to decide." Janus said. When Dean looked up, Janus was gone, and he was left with a smokeless pan of food in a fake kitchen. He stood up and took a few deep breaths, looking back and forth at the two doors. In the time it took him to blink, he was turning the knob to the bedroom door.

*****

Dean woke up to bright sunlight in his eyes and Castiel's arms around him, warm and comforting. He blinked, looking around to make sure he really was awake. The clock read 9 a.m., so he knew he was okay. He looked up at Castiel's face and sighed softly, running his palm over the stubble on Castiel's cheek. Castiel's eyes fluttered open and he yawned before looking down at Dean drowsily.

Dean scooted up the bed so he was eye level with Castiel, still running his hand over Castiel's stubbled jaw line. Castiel blinked slowly, smiling softly. Dean took a moment to absorb all of Castiel's features, from the point of his nose where it curved down the tiniest bit, to the bow of his lips, to his warm, slightly tanned skin, and, of course, his eyes.

_God,_ his eyes. It was like every shade of blue from _Starry Night_ had been taken and mixed into a brand-new, different, particular shade of blue. It was light and dark, clear and murky, bright and dull. It was beautiful and gorgeous and _shining._ His eyes shone even through the thin fog of sleep clouding them.

Dean let out a soft sigh when Castiel placed his hand almost delicately on Dean's cheek, rubbing his thumb over the cheekbone. Dean pressed his forehead gently against Castiel's, closing his eyes. He took in a deep breath, envisioning Janus in his mind's eye, telling him to pick a door. When he opened his eyes, Castiel was blinking slowly, still trying to wake up. Dean let out his breath, looked Castiel directly in the eyes, and forced his throat to push out the words,

"I love you too." Castiel's eyes cleared immediately, and he looked at Dean intensely.

"You... love me too?" Dean nodded, closing his eyes again.

"If I couldn't say it back to Sam, I wanted to say it back to you. So, uh, yeah. I love you." Dean opened his eyes when he felt Castiel's lips on his. Castiel's eyes were squeezed shut, and he seemed to have a look of desperation on his face. Dean closed his eyes and kissed back with just as much urgency. After what felt like years, they pulled apart, panting. Dean shoved his face into Castiel’s neck, shaking.

“I love you, I love you, _God,_ I love you so much --” His tirade of words eventually tapered off into quiet, broken sobs, and Castiel rubbed his back comfortingly, shushing him and pressing little kisses to the top of his head. After Dean had calmed down, he said to Castiel without really meaning to,

"You know, I think it's a good thing we didn't have sex last night." Castiel looked at him quizzically and asked,

"What do you mean?" Dean's face heated, and he almost regretted bringing it up, but then he remembered what Janus had said about futures and pasts and choices. Dean didn't want to be scared to make decisions any more. He didn't want to be scared to share his fears and troubles with others, and he didn't want to be so scared of sharing all the secrets about himself with people he trusted.

“Well… Part of the reason is that I'm asexual, but I _really_ wanted to have sex with you last night, so I'll have to think more on that later, but the last few times I had sex, they weren't very... pleasant." Castiel shifted slightly and watched as Dean's cheeks turned a dark red.

"What happened?" He asked after a long pause. Dean took a deep breath and counted to 10 before trying to talk.

"For... I think about 3 years, I was with this older guy named Alastair. He was kinda nice at first, ya know, considering I was this starving stick of a kid he'd found half-dead in an alley, but he... he wanted things from me that I couldn't give him, or I didn't want to give him. He..." Dean trailed off, swallowing. Castiel waited patiently for Dean to collect himself. Finally, Dean was able to start talking again.

"He kind of bribed me into staying with him. If I lived with him, did everything he asked and didn't talk back, he would send my parents money for Sam's transitional stuff. I said yes without really thinking, ya know? I mean, Sam was my world, and God knows that money from a guy with boatloads of of the stuff practically coming out of his pores was more helpful than a few hundred that I got from hustling pool every now and then.

"I stayed with him mostly because of that, and because I was scared. I had seen what the world could do to kids like me and he wasn't like that. At least, not at first. He was nice, took me out to dinner, to see movies. Hell, he took me to the zoo, the aquarium and the opera all in the same day once. Then, about... oh, a few months before I turned 20, he got pushy. Said he wanted more from me than just companionship.

"I... I gave it to him freely for a while. He had needs, I fulfilled them. There were days where I wouldn't even sleep, he was using me so much. I started talking back, started outright refusing." Dean swallowed, wiping at his eyes.

"That's when he started hitting. When he started taking what he wanted, no questions asked. He threatened to stop sending money and to cut off all contact I had with my family." Dean took a shuddering breath, shaking himself a bit.

"But... it's okay. He's gone now." Castiel frowned, asking,

"What, did he move away or something?" Dean snorted.

"No. He was pretty much perpetually drunk. Brought me out to dinner one night with some of his friends, drank one too many cocktails and drove us into a tree. I walked away with barely a scratch, and he drowned in his own blood." Dean shuddered at the memory.

"He told me on the drive there that he had given my parents a quarter of a million dollars the day before, so I wasn't worried about them." Castiel's eyes widened.

"A quarter of a million? Holy shit!" He said, surprised. Dean smiled slightly.

"Like I said, the dude was rolling in it." They both laid there for a moment, silent and still. Castiel snuggled closer to Dean after a while, and Dean buried his face in Castiel's neck.

"I'm glad he's gone." Castiel said after a moment.

"Me too." Dean agreed. He lifted his head back up and kissed Castiel, gently and softly. Castiel smiled and kissed him back, moving closer until their bodies had practically melded into one.

"I'm glad I have you." Dean said quietly. Castiel smiled, running a hand through Dean's hair.

"Me too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Janus is the Roman god of beginnings and transitions, also making him the god of gates, doors, doorways, passages and endings. He's typically depicted having two faces, as in this picture: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/a/a9/Janus1.JPG/220px-Janus1.JPG | Bear with me, folks. I'm a huge ancient Greek/Roman pantheon nerd.


	6. The End.

After a long period of cuddling and kissing, Castiel said he had to take care of some business. He rolled over and sat up, grabbing his phone off the bedside table. Dean watched as he swiped through his phonebook to call the honey farm. Castiel waited patiently, and his face broke into a smile when someone picked up.

“Kevin, hi! So, I was calling to tell Cain that wasn’t going to make it in today… oh, he’s out for lunch? Okay, well, when he gets back, can you tell him that I’m…” Castiel paused, winking at Dean.

“Catching up with a special friend of mine. Oh, he’ll know what I mean. Also, I know Samandriel will be more than happy to cover my shift for me. Okay, thank you, bye!” He set the phone on the table and laid down next to Dean again, smiling.

“There,” He said, kissing Dean on the nose.  “Business has been taken care of.”

*****

After more cuddling, Castiel eventually dozed off. He woke up a few hours later to a frustrated shout coming from his studio. He stumbled across the hall, still half asleep, peered in, and immediately started laughing so hard that his head hit the doorframe. Dean was sitting at his pottery wheel, covered from head to toe in clay. Castiel was sure that when Dean took off his apron, it would leave a perfect silhouette.

Dean glared at Castiel as he continued laughing, leaning against the wall and slowly sliding down to the floor. He ended up lying on his side, tears streaming freely down his face.

"I... am going... to rupture something... Jesus _fucking_ Christ..." Castiel managed to say between gasps of air. Dean continued to glare silently, which just seemed to intensify Castiel's laughter. After a very long time, he finally stopped laughing, wiping his eyes and clutching at his stomach.

"H-holy shit, Dean..." Dean squinted and Castiel looked away, snorting.

"F-fucking _stop_ already, C-Christ!" Dean sighed and got up, taking off his apron. As expected, it left a cartoonish silhouette, and Dean threw the apron at Castiel as he started laughing again.

"S-seriously, I'm gonna p-pass out, Jesus H. Christ --" Dean scowled as he started cleaning up the clay, lobbing a wet handful at Castiel and hitting him in the stomach with it. Castiel wheezed and clutched his stomach, but continued laughing. After a while, he managed to get up off the floor and pulled his shirt up over his stomach.

"D-do I have a six-pack yet?" He asked, still shaking with some leftover laughter. Dean rolled his eyes as he cleaned.

"No, you don't, Mr. Ruptured Spleen. Would you mind helping me clean up a little?" Castiel snorted and started cleaning the clay off of Dean. As they cleaned, Dean started talking.

"So, you know how I told you I was going to do some thinking about being asexual?" He asked, and Castiel nodded.

"Well, I looked a few things up while you were sleeping, and I found some pretty interesting stuff about it." Castiel stepped away and started to clean the pottery wheel.

"Did you?" He said absently. Dean nodded.

"Yup. I think I found my definition. When I was reading about asexuality, I found this little sub-group in it called demisexuality, which is when you start feeling sexual attraction for someone after you make a strong emotional connection with them." Castiel grinned.

"So you're saying we have some kind of a profound bond?" He asked. Dean smiled.

"Something like that. I also found out a whole bunch of stuff about romantic orientation, and I found out that I'm demiromantic, too."

"Same profound bond thing going on there?" Castiel asked. Dean nodded. Castiel shrugged, standing up to rinse out the washcloth he was using.

"I'm just bi, so it's easier to explain, but some of my relationships with people can sure take a nose dive after they learn that fact." He said, walking back with the now clean washcloth. Dean nodded empathetically.

"Yeah, I get that." Castiel smiled, pecking Dean on the lips.

"I'm glad you were able to figure all this out." He said softly. Dean smiled and kissed him back.

"I'm glad too," He grinned and leaned forward, whispering into Castiel's ear, "You wanna have sex now?" Castiel smirked, pulling back.

"Shower first, then sex. I don't want any clay in my bed, Winchester." Dean grinned.

"Anything you say, Novak." Smiling, laughing and thinking of the numerous futures to come, Dean dragged Castiel to the bathroom where many happy things ended up transpiring.

Dean found out that day that yes, in fact, he does do love.

*****

_Can't afford to lose_

_Another second with you_

_I've been waiting a long time_

_I can't afford to lose_

_Another second with you_

_I am yours and you are mine..._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics at the end of this chapter are from the song "See Through" by Pentatonix. I was listening to it while editing this chapter and thought the song in general fit quite well:)

**Author's Note:**

> The book Dean is thinking of in this chapter is called "When In Doubt, Add Butter" by Beth Harbison and it's one of my personal favorites:)


End file.
